Beneath Mask of Normal Nigerian Life, Young Lives Scarred by Boko Haram /March 19, 2017 by Ashley Gilbertson

"She hears the awful sounds in her dreams. They are the moans of a dying girl.

Amina is haunted by the memory. After all, she was the one who handed the girl to Boko Haram."

From a story Dionne Searcey and I worked on last month.

A few of my pieces printed for “Fragments in Time”, an exhibition of fifty works by me and @francopagetti at @madrosegallery in Millerton, NY, opening July 12, 12-5 PM. 1. Down on Wall Street, 2008 45”x45” 2. Sandstorm at Camp Liberty. Baghdad, 2008. 16”x24” 3. Lockdown, New York City, 2020 16”x24” Exhibition courtesy of my favorite gallerists at @monroegallery

Major exhibition coming up @madrosegallery in Millerton, NY! It’s me and @francopagetti showing 50 of our images from our catalog over our entire careers. This is an image of mine from the Ndani tribe in the Baliem Valley of West Papua, 2000. July 12, 12-5 pm opening.

‘No kings’ rally X Flag Day, Fifth Avenue, New York.

Hundreds of protesters in Lower Manhattan, demonstrated President Trump’s Immigration crackdown this week. Protests have been largely focused around 26 Federal Plaza, a 41 story government building that houses one of the city’s immigration courts, and on June 10, a group marched north to another courthouse. Dozens of arrests have been made.

Anti ICE protest, New York, NY. June 10, 2025.

Red Hook by @orchardstreetrunners: didn’t die despite @kylepriceisright’s best efforts dragging me into traffic like a demon on his way to first place.

This Memorial Day, I’ll be thinking of my grandparents, Alan Avery and Victor Gilbertson, who served Australia during WWII. They returned home, but nothing happens in a silo, not war, and especially not combat. My families experiences with returning veterans led me to war, and eventually to create the only work I’m proud of: Bedrooms of The Fallen which was commissioned by @kathyryan at the @nytmag These two bedrooms are connected. Marine LCpl. Jordan C. Haerter, 19, was killed by a suicide truck bomb on April 22, 2008, in Ramadi, Iraq. Jordan stood his ground to stop the bomber, saving his platoon’s lives, including that of Marine Cpl. Nicholas G. Xiarhos, 21. Nick’s father drove to Jordan’s funeral in Sag Harbor, NY, where he thanked Jordan’s mother for her son’s courage that had saved his own son. Nick returned home only to volunteer to redeploy to Garmsir district, Afghanistan, where he would die in an IED attack on July 23, 2009. This time; Jordan’s mother drove up to Nick’s funeral in Yarmouth Port, MA. “No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend’s or of thine own were: any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.” John Donne, 1840

Late nights red lights… fun story about a legendary door @fabrizio.brienza for The @nytimes From @dionnesearcey story (who got in): The music inside Paul’s Casablanca lounge was thumping on a recent night as sweaty dancers maneuvered under a disco ball. Outside, a line of would-be revelers looked longingly at the entrance. A green velvet rope was nearly all that was separating them from the good times being had inside. That rope and Fabrizio Brienza. As the “door” of the lounge, in SoHo, Mr. Brienza is in charge of plucking patrons from the line to enter. Only a choice few get in. “I curate the vibe of the place,” said Mr. Brienza, who has worked at Paul’s for five years and estimates that on busy weekends he turns away hundreds of people who don’t fit that vibe. Which is defined solely by him. Mr. Brienza is on the front lines of gate-keeping in a city that thrives on exclusivity, giving rise to power brokers around every corner.

Here’s an 02h00 Downtown Bread Route race on a fucking school night thrown by the one and only @orchardstreetrunners

Best artists to ever live (even with Jello). Better than Bach. Than Nas. And, yeah, fight me.

Day or night. No better running city. No better city. Fight me.